Page 33 of The Last Debutante
“Laird,”Duff said through a mouthful of eggs.
“I’m sorry you find it so,” Jamie said, and polished off his food, sopping up the juices with his bread.
“Please don’t misunderstand me. Your home... I suppose it is a home of sorts, isn’t it? It is quite lovely, and I cannot complain about the accommodations. I don’t mind in the least taking long, winding walks through dark corridors to the dining room, or finding a library in the place where I am certain a dungeon once stood, given the marks on the stone walls. But the fact remains that there is very little to occupy me, and I must be a strain on your coffers.”
“You are no strain,” Jamie said, and pushed his plate away before turning his glance to her. “No’ as yet, that is.”
“Well then, what am I to do while you hold me prisoner?”
If she thought she would goad him, she was wrong. He shrugged. “You’ve letters to write, have you no’?”
“With all due respect, that will require only a few minutes of my time.”
Geordie tapped his elbow and showed him the slate.Shuvl barns.
Jamie smiled at his brother. It was bloody well tempting. “You seem a resourceful lass. I have every confidence you will think of ways to occupy yourself whilst your family repays its debt to mine.”
“You are far too confident,” she said sweetly. “It’s not as if I am particularly welcome here. Give me some idea of an occupation, please.”
How in heaven’s name would he know? “I am no’ a woman. Try sewing,” he said, and looked at Duff. “Someone can give our guest a bit of thread, aye?”
“Sewing! Do you truly expect me to sit about and embroider while I am held against my will?”
“Mary, the queen of all Scotsmen, did precisely that when she was held againstherwill by your English queen, aye? There you are, then, Miss Babcock, something else to occupy your time—you might also hie yourself to our dungeon and read a bit of Scots history.”
“Laird!” she said. “There must besomethingI might do. Something I can do to help. In Hadley Green, I am involved in charitable endeavors. Perhaps you might have a charity that could use my services?” she asked hopefully.
He was finding her enthusiastic plea almost amusing. “We take care of our own.”
She sighed. “Of course you do. Campbells are entirely self-sufficient in all things, I suppose.”
“No’ entirely,” he said, smiling now. He looked down the table at Robbie. “Have we found a wife for Dougal Campbell?” he asked.
“Diah,Jamie—”
“There is something you might do,” he said to her. “A wee bit of matchmaking.”
Her mouth dropped open. Her fair cheeks pinkened.
Jamie very much enjoyed her maidenly blush. “Find him a wife, then, Miss Babcock. That ought to keep you quite occupied, aye?”
“And why should I, or anyone else, find Dougal Campbell a wife?”
“He is a blacksmith here. His wife died of the ague last winter.”
“What I mean,” Daria said impatiently, “is wouldn’t this Mr. Campbell want to find hisownwife?”
“The lad has tried,” Jamie said, “but he’s no’ had the good fortune of finding her.”
Daria looked perplexed. “But... what has that to do with you?”
“It has everything to do with him,” Duff said impatiently. “As the laird, he is responsible for the clan’s well-being in all regards. Dougie Campbell has brought this particular problem to the laird to solve.”
“And now,” Jamie said, “I have solved it.”
No,Geordie wrote in rather large letters on his slate, underlining them several times before handing it to Jamie.
“Why no’?” Jamie said. “She has far too much time on her hands, as we’ve all heard quite clearly. Miss Babcock, Duff will introduce you to Dougal Campbell on the morrow.”
